The Bird with a Broken Wing
by TARDIS-elf
Summary: Abby Brandon is an ordinary woman who lives an ordinary life until the day that Loki attacks her favorite place and everything changes. I own nothing except my character. Rated T for violence.
1. Chapter 1: Of Comic-Cons and Captains

I've always been sort of . . . dramatic. My policy is that if I'm going to go down, I'm going to go down with a show. It's pretty stupid, I know, and my story will probably end sooner because of it. But think of it like this, in your favorite TV show, you have that awesome character. If that character dies while the show is still running, you cry and remember. And, if not, well then, who cares? My death just needs to be the most dramatic, epic-filled death ever.

So, picture this: Comic-con, New York, nearly ten thousand people. All the fandoms have collided and, after a long day of meshing, it's time to go. The only issue? We can't. We're barred in. Who knows why? A few people are freaking out, wondering what's happening to them and why. Some are complaining about how they need to go to work tomorrow and can't afford to be kept in late. And then there are the nerds who are absolutely ecstatic and positive that their hour of heroism has come. But me, I'm just a wallflower, content to watch the confused world continue in madness. But when my time comes, I'll be the woman of the hour, if only in my head.

The power goes out. People freeze and the noise that generally comes with a crowd ceases. There is only one light and it is focused around a very recognizable villain.

Loki of Asgard invaded quite some time ago. I don't know all the details as I was in Europe at the time, but apparently brought about mass destruction. I honestly do feel I will be threatened with death now.

"Humanity!" He addresses us in a loud, booming voice. "Look how far you've fallen!"

Yes it seems that a life threat is inevitable.

"You huddle together in the dark like beasts!"

I am most likely going to go down now. What a show I'll put on!

"I am Loki of Asgard!"

As if we didn't know that.

"I am your king! Kneel! Kneel before me!"

Even the nerds who had every hope of saving the day obey him. What a bunch of back boneless babies! If I were in their shoes I wouldn't-

"You!" I look up to see Loki staring me in the eye. "Why do you not kneel?"

"Why should I? It's a stupid command," I retort. My whole "going down epically" plan is not really going my way.

"Stupid?" Ok, wow, he's… British.

"Yeah stupid. I mean, seriously, you take control of a minimum of eight thousand people and the first thing you want them to do is kneel, rendering them completely useless. So, yeah, stupid whether you do or do not mind my saying so. "

He lifts his head ever so slightly, perhaps so he can look down his nose at me. "What is your name, Midgardian?" he asks with obvious disgust.

I look around. "Oh, now, see, I'm not really sure if your ears are worthy enough to hear my name." A-ha! See, there is the epicness I was looking for!

"What is your name?!" His anger is clearly bubbling over.

I glare at him, annoyed. "Abby Brandon, Mr. Mischief, and if I'm going to be a citizen of this 'kingdom,' I'm going to have to demand the respect that I," I gesture to the still cowering crowd around me, "that all of us deserve."

He scrutinizes me and announces with casualness, "I should kill you."

"Ooh, not doing what you should? I'm afraid you're going to get black marks in the history books." I pause as though reflecting. "Ah well, your loss, not mine. And now I must leave. As much as I would _love_ to see the birth of a nation, I cannot. I'll be very busy tomorrow. I've got places to go and people to see, you get the drill. Ta-ta!" I turn to find Captain America gawking at me. I brush past him. "Excuse me."

I stumble over a few babies who are too scared to move. Then I trip over some guy's hand. In mid-fall, I find myself no longer falling. I try to move at all, but I can't. Ah, Mr. Mischief, it seems you're not done with me yet.

After some time and what I understood as a fight between the famed Avenger and the notorious Asgardian, I move. However, it is not of my will. I am still stuck in the same position. Apparently, I am _being_ moved. By Loki, I gather, for I see Captain America sprawled across the floor unconscious. Luckily, he is still breathing and doesn't seem to be incredibly damaged. I had wanted to see the condition of the Captain further, but the doors slam in my face.

I'm in a vacant hall. Loki comes to the front of me and with a snap of his fingers my fall is completed.

"And now you are finally where you always should have been." He crouches down and cups my chin in his hand. "In the end, you will always kneel."

I hit away his hand and scramble to my feet. "What do you want from me?"

He chuckles under his breath. "Abby, haven't you been listening? I want from you what I want from everyone. I want your allegiance."

"You want to strip me of everything I am entitled to as an American. You expect me to side with that?"

"I expect you to consider your options. I expect you to understand that my side is the winning one."

"Why do you care? I'm one person out of billions. Why does it matter to you what I believe in?

He begins to circle me. "You're special, Abby. It took more than courage to do what you did, however foolish it was. To be perfectly frank, I have an army that requires your assistance."

"No."

He stops. "No?" He is clearly taken aback. "You are trapped with no escape. You have tempted my wrath. I have offered you away to reconcile and your answer is no?"

"It's as simple as this, Mr. Mischief; to you I'm an interesting subject and not something worth real investment. A bird with a broken wing, if you will. That makes me disposable, and I don't well like the sound of that. Now, the exit, if you please."

I walk casually to the door. It's locked as I anticipated.

It takes some time for Loki to follow me. "You expect me to simply let you go?"

"No," I say as I push all the harder against the door. "I expect you to consider your options."

In six seconds the door opens and, once again, I take a tumble. Loki doesn't say a word, but merely spins on his heel and leaves.

I can go now if I like, but there is one more thing I have to do. Now, I can tell you from personal experience that dragging Captain America's body around and buckling him into your car is not as easy as it looks.

It is a long and tedious drive home. I change the radio station at least five times before deciding to turn it off entirely. I steal the occasional glance over to Steve Rodgers who is still out cold. It's kind of disturbing seeing him slumped over like that. If I didn't know any better, I would say he's dead. However, I know that that's not the case. His chest rises and falls with each steady breath.

When I return home, it's almost midnight. I almost leave the Captain in the car. I almost want to. I live on the top floor of the small but tidy apartment complex. If I thought getting him up the stairs was hard… I try to defeat the awkwardness by complaining about everything that makes the task difficult. Oh, for Pete's sake! Who am I kidding? There is nothing within the power of human kind that could make this any less weird.

When I reach the top, needless to say, I'm out of breath. After gulping down a large glass of water, I tend as best I can to the large gash on the Captain's forehead. All I can really do is clean it and hope that it heals. But, man, can he sleep like a rock! He didn't even flinch when I used the hydrogen peroxide!

Afterwards, I push him onto the bed and try to make him comfortable. Then I make myself comfortable (or at least try to) on the couch. After just a few minutes, I doze off with hardly a second thought to the events of the night.

The next morning, I wake up wondering why I'm sleeping where I am. Then it all comes flooding back to me. The Comic-con, Loki, Captain America. Yes, I remember all too well. Anyway, I had better wake the Captain. Soon enough, the Avengers are gonna come looking for him and I don't want that mess at my house. I drag myself off the couch and into my room. I grab Steve's shoulder and shake him violently due to his uninterrupted sleep last night.

"Steve, wake up. C'mon, Steve, you've got to get back. Wake up, Steve. Wake up!"

He moans and runs his hand over his face as he opens his eyes. As soon as he recognizes that he doesn't recognize me or the place he's in, he is all too awake. He lays somewhere around one million questions on me.

"Who are you? Where am I? What am I doing here? What happened?"

I try to calm him. "Settle down, okay? My name is Abby Brandon. This is my house. You fought with Loki last night and got hurt. I brought you here. Everything's fine."

"Alright, yeah. I remember now. And Loki? Did he get away?"

I nod my head. "Unfortunately, but for now everything's fine. Listen, everything is open to you. Go take care of yourself. Get some breakfast, I don't really mind. Just whatever you're going to do, please do it quickly 'cuz soon your friends are gonna come looking for you"

He nods his head and practically leaps out of bed. I'm surprised at his energy considering last night and the fact that he just woke up, but when you're in the Army then an Avenger I guess you have to get used to it.

There's a knock on the door. "I'll get that. Why don't you get something to eat?"

"Thanks."

I walk to the door, sort of embarrassed that I'm still in my pajamas.

When I open the door, a colored man with an eye patch stands before me. "Captain Nick Fury, ma'am."

He is interrupted by Iron Man breaking down the door and pinning me to the ground. "Where is he and what've you done with him?! Don't even act like you don't know what I'm talking about because-"

"Stark, leave the civilian alone."

I push him off of me. "Yeah, Stark. And just for your information, you'll be paying for that door." I jump to my feet.

"Ma'am, we're interested in the whereabouts of Captain America or Steve Rodgers. We traced him as far as here and-"

At that moment, Steve walks in with a bowl of cereal. "Hey, Abby, where do you keep the…"

He sees them and freezes in his tracks.

"Gentlemen," I announce sarcastically, "it appears you've caught me."

Captain Fury speaks again, but this time in apology. "We're very sorry, ma'am. Thank you for your trouble."

I shake my head. "No trouble, except the door, so…" I glare at Stark.

"Uh, yeah. Real sorry 'bout that. I'll send you a check."

"And I'll hold you to that," I tell him seriously.

Steve forces a smile onto his face. "We'll be going now." Oh man, he is so embarrassed! It makes me feel guilty to think it, but this is actually kind of funny. No, not kind of: really funny. He begins to literally push them out the door, or at least what remains of it. He glances over his shoulder. "Thanks again!"

"No problem!" I answer in a sing-song voice.

After a lengthy breakfast, I feel uneasy and sort of ill. I doubt I'll be able to go to work. I call in sick, because I honestly do feel very sick now. Most people would say that I ate something that didn't agree with my stomach, I doubt that. I believe it's this: I am just now beginning to understand the extreme danger I was in last night. I could have died! I am such an idiot! Yet, somehow, I'm still alive to remember my near-death experience. By rights, I shouldn't even be here. If things had gone differently but I managed to pull through alive, I would and should be in captivity. Not only did Loki spare my life, but he also freed me. I don't know if you would call that mercy, but from first-hand experience, I don't know what else you would call it. It may sound juvenile, but I think that there's a heart underneath that thick skin. Now, I'm not saying that he's right or sane. I'm just saying that nobody's that heartless.


	2. Chapter 2: Life Debt

Anyway, the next day, I am completely recovered from whatever it is I "had."

I take the subway to work every day. It's a lot more convenient for me. The station is always bustling with the strangest characters, but if you go there as often as I do, you'll get used to it. There's little that surprises me anymore. Especially since Loki took over the Comic-con and Captain America ate cereal in my kitchen.

I'm familiar with a good number of people who are simply always at the station. You call it loitering. I also call it loitering. They call it staying comfortable in one place while strangers randomly offer them money. Nice people, though. They probably know more about me than I know about myself. I settle in next to Dorcas a friendly (for just seriously lack of a better term) loiterer.

"Ooh, Abigail. Where were you yesterday? We wanted to hear about the Comic-con."

Another elderly loiterer named Simon leans in and speaks up. "Don't you know anything, woman? That silly Asjaramin attacked."

"Oh, I know that, Simon. Hush up. I want to hear it from her."

"We know all we need to. Fogi attacked and left no one breathing."

Alfred, an aged African American, starts to talk. "Well that's clearly not true, because she's sitting right there. Pay up." Simon growls a bit but picks up two quarters from the hat in front of him and hands them to Alfred.

Dorcas flaps her frail hands to silence them. "So, tell us, how'd it go?"

"No one breathing!" Simon halfway shouts.

I smirk. "Then I wonder where they get the stories from." I begin my tale. I leave out the unnecessary details as my train is almost due, but I manage to get in the whole story from Loki's attack to Iron Man's invasion.

Soon enough, my train arrives and I board leaving them each with five bucks.

Work is boring, boring, boring, boring, and more boring as usual. Time to go home. I get home. I eat. I sleep. You get the picture. My whole life has been: boring. The only thing that made it remotely interesting was the Comic-Con and now I might be too scared to go back. Thanks a lot, Fogi of Asjaram! I will admit that I had to work hard to contain my laughter at that.

The next morning starts off as any other. I go to the station and buy my ticket, but not long after that, I find a filthy hand pressed over my mouth. Before I can even make a useless attempt at screaming, the thug drags me into an alley and holds a switchblade close to my gut.

"Give me your wallet!" he demands. I find myself in yet another life-threatening situation. There is no way I am acting stupid this time.

"Okay, l-let me just…" I slip my purse off of my shoulder and dig around with frantic hands. I know I put it in there. Where could it…

After letting off a string of curses, the thug again exclaims, "Give me your wallet!"

A sharp intake of breath from the thief causes me to delay my journey for the missing wallet and look up. He's been stabbed from behind by heaven knows what. Who is his murderer? Loki, who else?

"Where… How… What are you doing here?"

"Well, I believe I just saved your life. Again."

I roll my eyes. "I had it sorted."

"Yes, I can tell by the way you were trembling."

I huff and look down to the body slowly leaking blood at my feet. "Oh my soul. He's dead! You killed him!" I exclaim as I step away.

"Where you would you be if I hadn't? Either dead or penniless. I'm going to guess it would be the former, but neither prospect is very pleasant."

"Wait. Just wait. Hold on. How did you know I was in trouble?"

"Well, I heard your call for help and…"

"I didn't call for help."

He looks embarrassed and just really sheepish. I gasp as I realize that, "You've been stalking me!"

"What? No! What a ridiculous…"

"It wasn't a question. How long has this been going on?"

Loki looks down at his boots. "Three days."

"Three days? Okay," I take a deep slow breath. "Wow, um…" What does one do after this?

"Okay, you, follow me." I start to leave, but he grabs my arm.

"Not so fast. The way I see it, I just saved your life. So now, I believe you owe me a life debt."

I stare at him in disbelief. "What?"

He smiles evilly. "You owe me your life. Can I make it any clearer?"

I look all about me, I don't know what for. Maybe I'm searching for a lawyer to butt in and tell him he's wrong. "But…"

He holds a finger to his lips. "Ah. Ah. Hush. Now, did I save your life: yes or no?"

"Yes."

"So, do you owe me your life: yes or no?"

"Yes," I grumble.

"So, now you are going to follow me instead of the opposite."


	3. Chapter 3: America, the Beautiful

I really have no choice in the matter. My whole "he has a heart" theory kind of went down with the fact that he killed everyone in the Comic-Con except yours truly. "Very well," I say giving up the fight.

He seems a bit disappointed with my answer. He exits the alley with me trailing behind him. He starts towards the exit of the station. I spy Dorcas, Simon, and Alfred sitting in their usual spots. They seem confused with my actions, except Simon who just looks annoyed. I feel bad that I can't explain to them why I can't sit and talk today.

Once we leave the station, I turn to Loki and inquire, "Where are we going?"

"Well, if you are wanting me to reveal the location of my headquarters, I'll have you know I'm not that foolish. However, I will supply you with a general location: Germany."

"Wait, what? How do you plan to get us there? Please tell me you have some weird teleportation device."

Loki holds an unfathomable expression. "I'm afraid not." However, something tells me he doesn't mind at all.

"So how do you intend to get us there?"

"Well, the point is to attract as little attention to ourselves as possible. You have a passport. So, we are flying."

"Oh, so not only have you been stalking me, but you've also been checking my personal records."

Loki rolls his eyes. "No, of course I did not. That would be foolish and a waste of my time."

"Oh."

"I had Agent Barton do it."

I shoot him an offended look.

"Oh, never mind. Hail a cab."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, is that not how it's said?"

"No, I mean, yes. It's just that…"

"Hail. A. Cab." So after some time a cab is hailed. We get in with no consideration to the "ladies first" rule. I instruct the taxi driver to drive us to the airport.

"So, I know how I'm going to get to Germany. I have my passport and enough money to get me there and back again, but I don't know how you're going to get there. I want to know how you even plan on getting on the plane."

Loki just stares out the window. "I have my methods." His grip on his staff tightens.

"Oh, no, tell me you're not going to impale anyone else."

He briefly glances over his shoulder at me, but then continues to look out the window. "I'm not all blood and gore, Abigail. And this staff is capable of much more than bringing about pain."

The rest of the road is silent. I'm actually really grateful because of that fact. The more Loki talks, the more I have to worry about what he's going to do next.

We reach the airport. I speak to the driver. "How much do I owe you?"

"Forty-five."

I pull out my wallet which has suddenly decided to appear.

"Never mind," growls Loki. He grabs my arm and runs with me like I'm a football with legs. When we're deep inside the building, he stops and lets go of me, sending me tumbling to the ground. I stand up and look him in the eye before slapping him across the face.

I point an accusing finger at him. "Don't ever do that again."

"Excuse me? I give the orders."

"Oh, yeah? Well, Mr. Mischief, there's something you should know. This is the modern world: where I live and you don't. This is _my_ division. And the jokes on you, 'cuz I didn't bring my passport. Ha!"

Loki grins, reaches into his jacket, and produces the passport in question. I take it from him, bewildered. He begins to laugh.

I stare at it a while. "How did you get this?"

Through his laughter he manages to say, "I retrieved it when I was following you about."

It's not funny. It is, in fact, the opposite of funny. However, I can't help but to giggle just a bit. "C'mon, I've got to get my first ticket."

"Don't you mean your only ticket? Don't you understand that you're not coming back?"

Any brief moment of happiness has vanished. "What?"

"Say farewell to your beloved country, Abigail, You'll never see it again."

The next few moments are a haze. I hear Loki say, "Next flight to Germany." A brief mumble then he says, "She's fine." I want to protest this horrendously false statement, but I feel so confused that I can't even talk. I go through security which takes so much shorter with no luggage. Loki leads me over to a chair and forces me to sit. Then my surroundings darken.

When I come back to my senses, it's dark and Loki still sits looking bored. I speak the first stupid thing that comes into my mind. "But I don't even know German."

Loki chuckles then announces, "You snore."

I think I must be going crazy. I just laughed at two things my kidnapper said. Of course, technically he's not kidnapping me. However, he is a murderer. I never thought I'd ever be in a situation like this. I have to relocate myself to a different country with a villainous murderer to whom I am indebted. My life constantly hangs on a thread and I laugh. Yep, if you ever need something to describe "insane," I'm your girl.

He and I spend the rest of the time at the airport making small talk. He tells me about his brother who appears to hate with every fiber in his being, and his mother who he appeared to have loved very dearly. I tell him about my large family in Texas. It's strange and terrifying to think that I'll never see them again.

The sun has nearly risen. It is now necessary to make my daily nerdy remark. "A red sun rises," I announce with fake soberness, "Blood has been spilled this night." I laugh for the third time at his confused face.

Our flight is announced over the loud speaker. Well, this is it. The whole thing seems dark, unfamiliar, and foreboding, despite the fact that I was here just over a year ago. This will be the last time I board a plane. This will be the last time I set foot on my country. It's hard to let it all go. I shuffle through the gray tunnel wondering how things could possibly go up from here.

Loki and I take our seats. I look out the window to my last glimpse of American soil. My life here has been tedious, but now that I'm saying goodbye, I don't want to leave it behind.

"Can I tell you something?"

Loki sighs, "I suppose."

"I've always wanted to re-establish myself somewhere. I've wanted to go out there and do something I love and turn it into a success."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I'm just a bird with a broken wing, and I can't fly."

"Well, you're welcome."

I turn to look at him. "Excuse me? I think you missed the 'do something I love' bit. I didn't ever say that I appreciate this. In fact, I hate it. Take people's lives into consideration before you ruin them."

Loki opens his mouth to say something.

"Forget it, Loki. There's no way you can justify this." I shed a single tear as the plane leaves the ground.


	4. Chapter 4: After 24 Hours

Germany: I've waited for too long. It's torture to wait for the end of your life. Twenty-three hours just sitting, waiting. I'm seated next to a man who is a murderer and my debtor. He's the closest thing to a friend that I have and yet it seems that a stranger could be closer. Then it hits me. Loki practically _is_ a stranger and I'm letting him take me to a foreign country to stay! I guess I owe it to him, but I seriously don't know why I decided to go through with this whole honorable arrangement. I don't know why I still even want to stay alive. It feels like I should just give up. However, I'm holding on. I don't know what it is I'm holding on to. Maybe it's the hope that somehow things will be brighter in the end.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the plane will be landing in twelve minutes." The announcement is repeated in German.

I brush back the tears which have been watering my face the entire eight hours of the flight. Whoever is awaiting us here, it won't do for them to see me in pieces.

We exit the plane with Loki literally pushing me from behind. It was most ungentlemanly. And the pushing continues until we are outside the airport.

I stare at him hoping that the fact that I am unimpressed is evident on my face. "Rude." He rolls his eyes then pulls out a small strip of cloth. "What is that?"

"In simple terms, it's a blindfold."

I raise my eyebrows. "Okay, why?"

"In simple terms, I don't trust you to keep the location of my headquarters location a secret. If you see where it is, you know the location. If you know the location, you can reveal it to my adversaries, specifically the Avengers and my blonde, bumbling brother, he who stole from me the throne of Asgard and banished me. So…blindfold."

"You know, that is fascinating, really. But I regret to inform you that I will not be wearing that." Without another word, Loki wraps it tightly around my head. "Again, just very rude."

Loki sighs and grabs my wrist. At least, I think it's him. He begins to pull me through the maze of people. I'm just making a wild guess here, but I'm pretty sure that a lot of them are staring.

"Please don't tell me we're walking to your stupid…"

Loki clamps his hand over my mouth. "No, we're not." I hear a car door opening. He tries to pull me into the car, but the idiot forgot that there's a curb. I trip and bang my nose on the car… cab... helicopter… whatever it is.

"Ouch! I think you broke my nose!"

"Oh dear, my bad," says Loki.

"I can feel you smiling," I say through my teeth. Now, Loki carefully leads me into the car by pushing my head down and probably messing up my hair which probably didn't look too good anyway. I think we're moving now. I carefully count the entire sixty-five minutes there. Now, if any of Loki's adversaries ask, I can say how far away the headquarters are.

The vehicle comes to an abrupt stop. Loki snaps of the blindfold. Through the window I see gray walls, gray floors, and gray ceilings.

"How cheerful," I mutter sarcastically. Oh, no. What a cliché! "Are we underground?"

Loki laughs. "No, of course not. We are in the last place the enemy will expect. We are in the highly classified wing of a public political facility." I bite my lower lip wondering what had possessed him to be so specific in his choice of location. "In any case, it's time for you to get out. I warrant you're tired of sitting around."

I burst out the door before the end of his second sentence. It has no people, computers, or any furniture whatsoever. I don't care. I finally have a chance to stretch my legs. Oh, sweet heaven! Hallelujah! Twenty- four hours has been my wait time. And now I'm here: Germany.


	5. Chapter 5: HQ

Loki exits the car. He ignores me and walks to the door on the far side of the room. With all my stored energy, I'm practically there in ten seconds.

"So are there actually more people here than you me and him?" I gesture to the chauffer who stands so still, one might believe him to be a statue. I stare at him a while, sort of disturbed by the fact that nothing is disturbing him.

"Yes, quite a few actually," he replies. He appears to be fidgeting with a keypad.

"How many numbers do you have to enter onto that thing?"

He glances at me sideways, clearly ticked. "Well, due to your constant interruption, I've had to start over twice. So, if you want me to finish, stop talking."

I turn away, mocking him. It's very childish, I know, but he makes it so easy. Also, most of the time, I don't really have a problem with being childish. I walk in circles with my arms crossed over my chest. He is seriously taking _forever._ I walk casually over to the chauffer who still seems undeterred by anything.

"Hey," I say in an attempt to start a conversation. "What's up?" He continues to stare off into the distance. "What's your name?" Silence. "Hello?"

He keeps his vision line straight ahead but he talks. "Hello. I'm fine. My name is Joe. My master said not to talk to you. So, with all due respect, ma'am, shut up."

"Well!" I turn my back and toss my hair. This is the ultimate sign of disapproval and shunning.

"Done!" Loki cries with triumph.

"Well, finally, after a million years!" I dash to the door. Loki takes another million years to open it. He is so doing that on purpose. I bump him out of the way and turn the handle myself. I throw a glance over my shoulder. "Excuse me."

People! Glorious people! People surrounded by other people and computers and holograms (wow) and color. Mostly just blue, but I don't care.

A guy who looks like your regular everyday FBI agent minus the sunglasses approaches me and Loki. "Sir, you're here! Why didn't you use the tele…" he squints behind me and a look of realization crosses his face. "The tele_phone _to say you were coming?"

"Oh, just because I love surprises and all. Now, this," he lays a hand on my shoulder, "is Abby. She'll be staying with us for a while."

I shrug his hand off and extend a hand to Mr. FBI. He takes it and shakes it firmly. "Hi. I _am_ Abby, but I'm afraid that Mr. Mischief has his facts wrong. I'll be staying forever thanks to someone who's initials are Loki." I shoot him a look over my shoulder. He clears his throat.

"I'm Jared Johnson, ma'am."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Johnson, and it's Abby not ma'am."

"Well, we look forward to having you here, Abby."

"Alright! Well, the opportunity to make acquaintances will come at a different time. This moment has been reserved for showing you to your room." Loki starts pushing me again.

"You do understand that this is not a fantastic show of character, correct?" He doesn't answer.

He continues to shove me towards a remote corner of the room where a door is. The door leads to a hallway which is every bit as dull as the room in which we parked. The hallway has a large collection of doors. Loki opens the first one on the left.

The room contains a bed. That's it. It doesn't even seem like a comfortable bed. It's more like a cot. "Fascinating. I went to a prison museum once where they had a cell that you could go into and stuff. This looks just like that. It's really quite charming." I know. Who could be more sarcastic than me? The answer: no one. Can't help it. It's just a really bad habit.

Loki rolls his eyes and shuts me inside.

So this is Germany. Funny. I thought it would be all colorful with cutesy little cottages and really good food. Speaking of food, I had no lunch or dinner yesterday. I am starved. Like seriously famished. Where's that Jared Johnson dude? I bet he knows where I can get something to eat. But so help me, if all I get is gruel, I will go insane. Sorry, it's just, I like food.

I open the door. Thank goodness the maniac didn't lock it. Out the next door and I'm in the Blue Room. Jared is standing with Loki by a glowing blue cube. Jared is talking, but both of their eyes are focused on it. By chance, Loki glances up and sees me. He hits Jared on his shoulder and they both quickly step in front of it and flash fake smiles.

I walk up to them casually. "Hello, gentlemen." They both wave. "What've you got there?"

"Something to make you ask questions. It's working, isn't it? Now, what are you doing…out?" says Loki.

"I want to know where the food is, but if you're busy…" I try to look around them. Loki pushes my head away from it.

"If you want food, fine. Son of John," he elbows Jared, "Go get that pizza thing."

"Really? My first time in Germany and you offer me pizza?"

"Well, what do you want?"

"How 'bout bratwurst? That's German, isn't it?"

"Yes, that's German. Son of John, bratwurst!"

"Yes, sir!" He comes back fifteen minutes later with probably the most delicious thing I have ever eaten. If ever in Germany, eat bratwurst. Yum!

My life here may turn out to be as dull as the building, but at least now I have something to occupy my mind. What is that cube thing? Why are they hiding it? I am at my wits end not knowing what's going on around here. I think that it's high time I figured out exactly what I've gotten myself into.


	6. Chapter 6: I'll Stop Talking If You Stop

The people here all treat me differently. Some treat me like I'm the queen of the world. Others treat me like I'm nothing but a piece of garbage they can kick around and hope I get thrown away soon. Either way, I'm a prisoner.

A while back I sent Jared Johnson to get me some fresh clothes and stuff. He was back within the hour with my entire wardrobe, leading me to believe that there _is_ a funky teleportation device somewhere and they're just keeping it from me because they don't want me to leave. I don't know why. I've proven myself to be pretty useless around here. I've got no tech smarts, no extraterrestrial knowledge that would be of any importance.

In fact, the only thing I'm good for is bringing a little personality to this whole operation. Seriously, everyone here is like a mindless robot. I met someone the other day who introduced himself as Clint Barton and all he could do was talk about how fantastic Loki is. It really makes me sick. I mean, honestly, he's not that great.

On the up side, I convinced Loki to move me to a different room. It's a bit better. It's got a dresser, a mirror, and a full-sized bed. There's still no window, though. Would it kill him to let a little light in? Is he photosensitive or something? I mean, seriously!

Oh well. I don't spend a lot of time in my room, anyway. I've been occupied mostly with finding out about that glowing, blue cube. I'm gonna bring their little secret down! Not that I'm going insane with it or anything.

However, there may be more to this whole thing than a cube. I'm pretty sure I overheard some people talking about someone named Tessa. Could it be that Loki has more than one victim of the life-debt? Is this some sort of sick hobby of his? Why haven't I seen her around? I think there's something more than meets the eye. I've got to get to the bottom of this. I don't care if it means I have to be little Miss Nancy Drew.

There's a little trick I learned years ago. I used to use it on my dad all the time and he always fell for it. It used to be just a prank, but now, this is serious.

I approach where Loki is sitting. He always sits there, for some reason. I don't know if it's some sort of weird yoga meditation routine or what. I decided to just go with it.

"Loki," I address him. He doesn't answer. That's not abnormal, but he usually at least looks at me. "Excuse me, Loki," I say a bit more firmly. Still doesn't answer. "Loki!"

Yup, that got him to snap out of it. But he sure is ticked. "What!?"

I take a step back. "Hold your horses, son. And be a bit more polite when speaking to a lady."

He rolls his eyes, "What?"

"Well, I just wanted to know if that blue, glowing cube of yours is important."

He closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath. "I do not own a blue, glowing cube." He abruptly opens his eyes again. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing. I just saw a guy run down the hall with it, is all. But if it's not important, then fine."

He's up faster than you can say "blink." He runs to the blue room, clearly panicking. He skids to a stop. "The Tesseract has been stolen! The Tesseract has been stolen! Begin the lockdown!"

The once professional looking staff is now a chaotic mess. It's like a giant ant colony whose nest was just destroyed. To think I caused that. It makes me want to laugh like the evil genius I am. Oh, by the way, it's Tesseract. Not Tessa. Noted.

Of course, Jared Johnson has to go blow the whole thing. "Um, sir. The Tesseract is right here." He points to the table where it sits. I'm really starting to not like that guy

I begin to bite my thumbnail as Loki turns slowly to me. He stares at me without saying a word. "What? To be fair, you were lying to me, too."

He rubs his forehead. "Sometimes I wonder why I don't just kill you."

"You know what, Loki? That's what I have to put up with every day, every hour. Why am I still even alive? Why do you insist on making my life miserable? I can't stand it! I'm of no use to you, and you're of no use to me. Thank you for what you did, but I can't live like this! Why don't you let me go? Why don't you just kill me?!"

I could see a war waging in his ice blue eyes. He was steaming, that much was certain. But it's like he's trying to fight back against his anger. He seems uncomfortable. If I'm causing him trouble like this, he really should get rid of me, one way or the other. As I've said before, I don't give a flip to whether I live or die. In fact, I'd rather die than spend my entire life in a torture chamber like this one.

Loki grabs my wrist and squeezes it so tight that I am confident he is cutting off my blood circulation. He drags me to my room and throws me in. He slams the door and I hear the click of the lock. Okay, so the maniac has finally cracked and trapped me in.

Does he plan to starve me to death? Uh, no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. I can think of better ways to die. If that's his plan, I swear I'll find a way to escape. He will not be depriving this girl of food!

He really needs to go out there and buy himself a sense of humor with all that expensive tech equipment, though. I mean, seriously! He can't take a joke? (Please disregard the fact that it was actually more like a serious investigation.) That Tesseract thing can't really be that important, can it? Does it really have to be so secret? In my opinion, he's taking some seriously drastic measures.

"If you try to starve me, I'll be free of the life-debt y'know," I call to the air. Man, I belong in an asylum!

"I'm not going to starve you. You needn't fear. In any case, what would it profit you if you were to be freed of the life-debt after you're dead?" Sweet mercy, he's right outside the door! "Let's make a deal, Miss Brandon. I will free you and inform you of all the goings-on."

"I know better than anyone that all magic comes at a price. I watch Once Upon a Time. Or at least, I did. But it's been three weeks so I haven't been able to see it lately thanks to someone who you love above anyone else."

"Your end of the bargain will be to spend the next five days without talking to me. Or talking to anyone… at all."

"Are you serious?"

"You can choose to take it or leave it."

"Why?"

"I just want to see if you can actually do it. You seem to have a tendency to talk a lot and it's getting on everyone's nerves, including mine."

"Well, thanks for the subtlety."

I heard him inhale sharply. "Do we have an agreement?"

I think it over. I love talking to people, true. But I would also love to be able to turn around without smacking my face into a wall. "Fine."

He unlocks the door and opens it. "You cannot speak starting now."

This is going to be a long week.


End file.
